


Reconstruction

by radstickers



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-War, in which adora is a workaholic, it's also lowkey h/c, it's kinda fluff i guess, she-ra space adventures tbh, writes a thing based on a small comic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radstickers/pseuds/radstickers
Summary: “Can’t you just...break the block? As She-Ra?”“...maybe. If I knew what it was. Or where it was.”Catra’s claws come to rest at the end of that ponytail, carefully picking out the twigs while combing through lazily.Slitted eyes peer down, spotting a rare moment of half lidded, unfocused eyes. The ink pen falls slack in that hand, and for a few precious seconds, Catra believes Adora will succumb right then and there.But then--a quick sigh and a harsh inhale, Adora squares her shoulders and sits up, rolling her shoulders and reaching for a book to her left to thumb through quickly.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 341





	Reconstruction

The new planet had bright orange skies, and unlike Etheria’s 12 moons, only two--but a massive pair that hung in the sky. It was cooler, more humid. And after days of dry ship air, it was was a nice change of pace. Somehow easier to breathe. 

Entrapta called the planet Trellek, a name Catra neither knew nor bothered to care was her own or the Horde’s name for it. Adora had said they should, as much as possible, rename the planets on their stellar chart to names the people indigenous to the planets used. So, after a brief contact with the locals--a race of people with long, tapering ears and soft short tails, Adora marked it down as Esk on her map.

As a result of the orangish sky, the local flora took on deeper reds and purples, something that, along with the sky, gave Adora the most entrancing glow. Her normally blond hair was rich and red, the tight tail catching the light. It was a good look on her. 

“So they said the next village was... _how_ far away?” Glimmer asks, lifting a branch out of her way with the side of her staff. 

“12...uhhh….bics? Is that what they said?”

“Bycs,” Entrapta corrects, leading the party but only to take samples from the flowering plants, and to inspect the deep blue glowing crystals just beneath the leaves. “Though it’s unclear if the term is a distance measurement or a time measurement…”

“There’s still a path, at least,” Adora counters, gesturing broadly. “At least it’s not like Yuvo.”

_Thank the moons for that._

Melog kept pace with them, but frequently ducked in and out of the deep forest, emerging in the form of whatever it is they found--a long eared antelope like thing, a snake with long furls. And most recently, something _vaguely_ cat-like, though with seven tails. 

Catra decides she likes it here. 

Bow keeps his nose down to the tracker pad, and Glimmer keeps lifting branches out of the way that would otherwise hit him. And while Adora leads--second only to Entrapta at times, Catra takes up the rear. 

The village is small, much smaller than the main city they landed in, but they were told that this is where the current practitioners of the planet’s magic had congregated. Like many of the villages, the construction was brand new, a group of people who had only _recently_ come home from having spent generations in hiding.

* * *

Esk seemed to be struggling with their magic. Though it was clear (clear to Glimmer, anyways) that the planet’s magic was abundant, the mages seemed to struggle to pull it the same way the ancient texts say their ancestors had. 

They sit in a main hall, with magic scrolls, maps, and charts littering tables, projections onto the ceiling. At the center of it all, Adora, head resting in one hand, writing down notes.

_She always was like that._

“You getting any of this?” Catra asks Melog, when the matron of the village explains the block.

_“Not really.”_

It’s a shame that most of their time on planets was spent doing mostly _this._ That unless they were walking through the terrain to find something, there often nights, _long_ nights, spent in some rebuilt hall, Adora working well into the next morning to corroborate exactly _what_ Prime had done to each planet and what she as She-Ra could do to help. 

It led to some genuinely lovely nights on _Darla._ Last week one of the planets had given Catra a small vial of a spice oil as one of the many gifts they receive for helping, and Catra still remembers the way Adora had rubbed it into her tired shoulders, the way it smelled...the way her fur felt so soft and shiny afterwards. 

It’s selfish, of course. This journey had never _been_ about her, or even her and Adora. Their little crew of six had a specific mission. 

Still, her heart aches a little, seeing Adora’s empty cup beside all the papers, watching her ignore the meal the village provides. 

Catra walks over, resting a hand on that shoulder.

“I can’t figure it out. It’s not like the Heart, which siphoned all of Etheria’s power into a weapon. It’s just….blocked.”

“Can’t you just...break the block? As She-Ra?”

“...maybe. If I knew what it was. Or _where_ it was.”

Catra’s claws come to rest at the end of that ponytail, carefully picking out the twigs while combing through lazily. 

Slitted eyes peer down, spotting a rare moment of half lidded, unfocused eyes. The ink pen falls slack in that hand, and for a few _precious_ seconds, Catra believes Adora will succumb right then and there.

But then--a quick sigh and a harsh inhale, Adora squares her shoulders and sits up, rolling her shoulders and reaching for a book to her left to thumb through quickly.

_Damn._

* * *

It’s a miracle Adora is alive.

That’s the only conclusion Catra can come to, when she watches, for another _hour_ , as Adora pores through text after text, moving from conversations with the mages and back to reading, with no sign of slowing down. It’s a miracle Adora is alive because, with this level of sheer unadulterated _focus_ she surely would have starved to death were it not for Bow and Glimmer, setting down food beside her. 

Catra knows she wasn’t unsimilar, in the months after the Portal-- but she had been more isolated, working at a breakneck pace for the chance to be ready for Prime. 

_...and look how that went._

But this is different and she knows it. Adora’s need to rescue and save runs a line straight from her sword hand to the deepest, softest part of her heart. 

The village gives them places to stay--but Catra knows Adora’s assigned bed will go unused, both by Adora...and by herself. Instead, she finds herself a quiet corner in the main hall and sleeps next to Melog, waking every few hours to see if, by some miracle, Adora had passed out and she could drag her to bed. 

She was never quite so fortunate.

Half a dozen times she had asked, and half a dozen times she had been told “I’m onto something, I swear…”

Catra had just come to accept that this was _Adora._

* * *

Catra wakes at some point, hearing the shuffling of cloth, her eyes opening in time to see soft blond hair and feel a kiss on her temple.

“...I’m sorry,” comes that soft voice. Catra’s breath hitches in her throat. “...after I break the block I promise we can go exploring, alright?”

Catra pulls the blanket offered closer, lifting a hand to cup that face. There’s an ink smudge just shy of her left cheek, and Catra slides her thumb over it, finding it painfully _adorable._

“Just wish you’d slow down every once in a while,” she tries, slowly pressing their foreheads together. “No one’s gonna die if it takes you a couple more days.”

“Yeah, well...I figured it out. So...I think by tonight maybe we can take it easy.”

“So you can sleep now?”

“...for an hour, I guess.”

* * *

It’s a good hour, while it lasts. 

They don’t bother with figuring out the keys or even finding the room they were assigned, Adora just slips beneath the blanket behind Catra and toes off her boots. Gentle, muscular arms wrap around Catra, and for the first time since they landed on Esk, it finally feels... _perfect._

For their hour, Adora is unconscious nearly immediately, but Catra isn’t far behind. It’s warm, it’s _safe._

But all too soon, the sun rises, catching the draperies in the hall and lighting up the space. Adora groans, throwing her arm over her eyes but...not a minute later, slowly sits up. Catra _growls._

“Five more minutes,” she demands, but it’s more of a plea. _C’mon, Adora. Five more minutes. We don’t even have to sleep just--_

“The block is uhh….I think 20...bycs…north. It’s gonna take about half the day to get there.”

_Great._

Adora pulls on her jacket in the absence of the blanket, of Catra. And just as she finishes pulling on her boots, Glimmer and Bow are already there. 

Catra can’t help the small frown that crosses her lips. And Melog responds in kind, making a soft plaintive _mrow._

* * *

It’s up a mountain because of _course_ it’s up a mountain. Unlike the peaceful plants that had made up the forest, the mountain is nearly exclusively sharp crystal, with a moss growing on top that distracts Entrapta nearly the whole trip. 

It’s when they finally step into the cave that the issue becomes clear: a trio of beady, _hungry_ eyes flash open, a furious creature letting out a hungry _snarl._

Adora is _ready_ but her response time is slowed. Catra, however…

Claws already unsheathed and lips curled into a playful smile _launches_ past Adora. 

_Finally something to kill._

She lands on the worm-like creature’s face, sinking her claws down sharply and grinning when it takes it’s attention off of the transforming Adora and onto Catra. And while she maintains herself on top, claws like daggers deep into the armor-like hide, she still takes a brief moment to glimpse the _beautiful_ transformation from Adora to She-Ra. 

Within a blink of an eye, and a beautiful flash of light, Adora is beside her, sinking the blade down as Catra holds the thrashing monstrosity still. 

“That must be the block!” Bow cries, nocking three arrows on the same string and sending out a volley as Glimmer traces small circles in the air to coalesce magic to her finger tips. 

Despite her normally strong hold, the creature’s muscular thrashing does start to undo her grip, and she finds herself reaching for the pommel of She-Ra’s sword to steady herself. 

“If I knew you wanted a sword, we _could_ have one forged,” Adora answers, her tone dripping with smugness.

“In your _dreams._ I’m just upset I left my whip on the ship.”

She sinks her claws back into the armored hide to deal another blow before jumping off, perching up on a small ledge overlooking the monster.

Then--

She spots it. 

A green chip implanted on the back, something that makes Catra’s eyes widen and her stomach turn. 

“Adora. The back.”

Glowing blue eyes snap to the green glow, that expression darkening.

“That explains everything!” Entrapta calls from her position at the cave mouth. “Horde Prime must have blocked the magic to keep it from the people, and without their magic, he could conquer the planet!”

“And without magic, fighting this thing would have been impossible, for a magic fairing people…” Bow answers.

Overcome with rage, however, Catra flies from her perch to land claws first into the chip, slashing at it before leaping back onto another ledge.

Adora focuses on her--she can feel those glowing blue eyes, and feels a sense of _comfort._

Long hair whipping in the wind, Adora leaps from the top of the monster to land sword first into that chip. Unlike Catra’s claws, the sword cleaves down _easily,_ cracking the casing and slicing straight through the spine.

The monster falls limp.

The chip...grows dark. And Catra realizes she was clinging a little _too_ harshly into the wall.

With a deep breath, she drops down beside Adora, watching her trace the wall behind the creature, the sigils that Catra now understands is Horde writing. 

Then, with an elegant flick of her wrist, the blade pulses out spectral radiance, and the wall _shatters._

“That’s _it!”_ Entrapta cries. “The magic is returning to the planet!”

* * *

She can tell Adora is tired. And walking down a mountain after expending that much magic as She-Ra certainly wasn’t doing her any favors.

The celebration is _big_ and already on going when they reach the small village near sunset, but it ignites onto a whole new level when they arrive back. Singing, dancing, magical displays…

Food, drink. And Catra smiles when Adora shares some sort of berry wine with her. 

But it’s later, much later, just when Catra thinks she’s going to have to beg Adora to bed, when the unexpected happens. 

She’s watching the stars, near enough the campfire, the dancing, the music...when she hears Adora come over.

“No excuses this time, got it? I’m sure the bed is--”

She stops, when a gentle weight comes to rest on her shoulder.

Catra’s eyes widen, and she freezes.

An arm wraps around her waist, and Adora heaves a sigh, those eyes fluttering closed.

Catra’s arms wrap up and around that back, her claws raking gently through that hair. 

Tears spring to slitted eyes. And Catra swallows past a swelling throat. 

It had been a month since she had held Adora, dying and limp in her arms at the Heart. And in all that time, Adora had gone back to protective, to in control. 

It felt weird, to want that again. To want to see Adora at her most broken.

But then...at that time, it was by no choice of Adora’s. This time...with head bowed, with tired, labored breaths warming her skin and fur along her left shoulder, Catra _knows_ this is by will. That she’s letting _Catra_ be the protector. 

She wants to hold Adora and _never_ let go.

“S-sorry.”

That gentle voice breaks her out of her silent reverie, and she blinks back tears, an attempt to be nonchalant. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” she soothes, clawed fingers sliding beneath that blond ponytail to massage at what she knows has to be a tired neck. “I don’t mind. Stay as long as you like.”

Her voice breaks a little. And there’s a pause before she feels the weight start to lift from her shoulder.

“...are….are you crying?”

With a bit of force, Catra pushes that head back to her shoulder. 

“No, dumbass.”

She turns her head to kiss into that hair, eyes glistening as she gazes up into the night’s sky.

_Ok, maybe a little._

  
  
  



End file.
